Try
by AnimeCountDown
Summary: After Edmund defeats the White Witch for the final time, what conspires between Prince Caspian and High King Peter? Oneshot. CaspianXPeter. Warning: Yaoi.


Peter stood transfixed, rooted to the spot where Caspian had been just moments before. He was caught in the exact same trance as well, pulled in by the White Witch's infamous raw, cold beauty. Flawlessly smooth pale skin stretched thinly over bones that made her look tall and powerful with her sharply angled collarbones and jaw. Her blonde hair billowed backward, wispy and soft, as if the ice she was incased in wasn't really solid.

Behind him, he heard the fighting and his heart yearned to save his family, but her whispered words were too much of a temptation for him to ignore. His entire being was fixated on what she promised, the strength he no longer possessed, the key to freeing the Narnians. How could someone so perfect lie like that and before he knew it, he was preparing to reach out to her, his soul quivering excitedly as her eager expression intensified.

Then the ice was cracking. Peter felt his eyes go wide in unison with the Witch's, her head jerking back in obvious agony. Out of instinct, he stepped forward, but then the frosted glass-like plate was shattering, small fissures lacing away from a single origin.

And when the ice crumbled, Edmund stood in its place, sword drawn above his head. Peter swallowed thickly as he realized what had happened. It was Edmund's blade that had pierced his enemy's heart, and it was his own hand that had been about to lend her aid. Shaking his head minutely in disbelief, he struggled to find the right words as Edmund lowered his sword awkwardly and met his gaze.

"I know," Ed breathed, sounding braver and more mature than Peter had realized. How much had his little brother grown? An even more disturbing question to Peter was, had the High King grown _at all_? He felt his confidence detonate as Edmund said ironically, but somehow without bitterness, "You had it sorted."

Peter could say nothing as Edmund stepped down from the platform, and he didn't bother watching his brother walk away from him. He knew that everyone was ashamed of their king. Closing his eyes against the way his heart twisted, Peter sighed and shook his head. When he looked up again, he was greeted by the image of Aslan, the only true leader Narnia had ever known.

Peter turned his gaze to the doorway of the tomb just in time to see Susan's angry glower. It was at both of them, he and Caspian, the prince who stood beside him. Her furious, disappointed brown eyes met his once and then she whirled around and swept from the room, leaving him alone with the one person he despised more than himself. Hesitantly, they turned to each other and Peter felt the immediate link between them as his blue eyes met Caspian's dark ones.

At that moment, he took a deep breath, preparing to say what he knew was necessary, though it would pain him to do so. However, Caspian appeared to be having similar thoughts, for he sighed, shaking his head as he turned his clouded eyes to the ground.

"I should not have done that…" he said softly, and then opened his mouth to say more, probably an apology by the looks of it, but Peter interrupted before Caspian could get another word out.

"No, you shouldn't have," he snapped, glaring at Caspian as the younger man raised his head in stunned surprise. "What you did was selfish, rash, and stupid. How do you think you can ever rule all of Narnia if you can't even stand on your own two feet? Have you ever once made a decision without having to call someone else for help?"

"Where is your humility?" Caspian hissed, and Peter couldn't help but notice how different they sounded when they were angry. Peter knew he was explosive, loud, and blunt about things, but Caspian approached things in a darker, quieter way that was just as lethal and intimidating. He clenched his jaw as Caspian lowered his tone further and said, "You know you very well would have done the same thing. If your brother had not slain the White Witch, you would have set her free."

"Humility? And where is your supposed honor?" Peter yelled, thrusting his face in Caspian's bravely. They were near the same height, so it was going to be hard to get that edge over him, but this was how men fought: with their pride. "You were the one stupid enough to listen to Nikabrik. Who in their right mind would obey the orders of a hag and a werewolf? Did you not pay attention to your tutor's lessons? They were the White Witch's most loyal followers."

"I suggest you hold your tongue," Caspian growled, and Peter laughed, feeling the adrenaline and testosterone flowing freely in his bloodstream now. There was no way he would let this naïve child tell him what to do.

"You have no right to give me orders, _prince_," Peter sneered, practically spitting in his face as he did. Caspian's expression was full of total fury, and Peter smirked smugly in satisfaction. "I'm still the High King of Narnia, and you're nothing but an ignorant infant standing in my shadow."

"You are no king," Caspian said slowly, each word pronounced with deliberate intention. Peter took a deep breath, his muscles tensing as a new fierceness made him see red, but Caspian wasn't done. As slowly as before, he whispered, "You arrogant, ungrateful _bastard_."

That was it. With a wordless roar, Peter threw his entire body weight into Caspian, making them both stumble for a second before toppling over onto the filthy stone floor. As soon as he could grasp the upper hand, Peter was on Caspian, pulling his hand back and slamming it down into Caspian's cheek, only he had forgotten this wasn't just a silly little fight after school back in England. Caspian was just as well trained in hand-to-hand combat as he was, and Peter was caught off guard when the prince grabbed his cockily thrown punch easily.

"I could have you killed for attacking me," Caspian snarled, his Spanish accent thick and harsh in his anger. Peter jerked his hand away just as Caspian made his move, rolling his body to try to pin Peter instead.

"The Narnians would _never_ betray their _first_ king," Peter retorted without hesitation, grunting as they both fought for the advantage, something neither of them were even close to achieving. "They will stay loyal to me."

"You are wrong," Caspian argued, his fingers clawing at Peter's throat. Would he really strangle him if he got a hold of his neck? Peter decided not to let Caspian have the chance, because he wasn't so sure anymore. "They will remember how you and your brother and sisters abandoned them and let Cair Paravel fall to ruin."

"Ruin under your family's actions!" Peter shouted, baring his teeth as his muscles strained. The overexertion of pointless struggling had already gotten him in a sweat. "We didn't mean to leave! It was by accident, not choice! I would never leave Narnia!"

"Why?" Caspian barked, his voice rising now. Peter had heard him yell before, and it made him pause every time. Caspian felt the slip and grappled for the opening, which Peter fought with extraordinary effort to maintain.

"Because I am their king!" he yelled, hoping his voice didn't really crack like he'd thought it had.

He didn't have time to worry about it, though, because he was suddenly slammed onto his back, his arms pinned to the sides of his head. Caspian's face hovered over his, expression furious and determined even as Peter struggled. His next words, however, threw the High King into silence.

"_Exactly_!" Caspian screamed. Peter fell still and silent in shock, staring wordlessly at the dark features just inches from his face. Those eyes glared back at him, the wild power within them calming very slowly as they both tried to regain their breath, neither of them moving. When Caspian spoke again, his voice was wispy, but still undoubtedly strong, "You should not fight for your title, Peter. Fight for your _people_. I wish to destroy my uncle's throne not so I may take it for myself, but because I want to undo my wrongs and create a future that is right for Narnia. Ask yourself why you keep fighting. Why did you attack the castle? Why do you heed no one's word but your own, not even your sister, who claims to have laid eyes upon Aslan? You are fighting for yourself, Peter, and if you don't stop…" he paused for a short moment to breathe, his eyes searching Peter's face frantically as he finished, "…there will be nothing left for you to win."

"What makes you so sure?" Peter asked, his heart was still racing, but the adrenaline was beginning to wear off and it was affecting his body. He felt exhausted, and he knew it was with effort that Caspian kept the grasp on his wrists firm. The prince sighed above him, shaking his head as he let it drop an inch, his eyes two orbs of starless night.

"It is what we humans do," he whispered, his tone both wise and gentle. It made Peter pause, made him rethink what he had been doing for the past few days. Caspian's gaze never left his as he spoke with such radiant assuredness, it forced Peter to sit there and listen to someone else for the first time in at least a year. "The Telmarines have long been obsessed with power. They are greedy and selfish, and I know this for it is the very thing I have been witnessing all my life without even realizing it until now. My Uncle Miraz betrayed his brother and killed my father, and then attempted to turn his blade upon me, so they _he_ could reign as king and so _his_ heir could take my place. Don't you understand, Peter? You long for power."

"Do you compare me to the likes of your uncle?" Peter shot at him, jerking his body once again in an attempt to hit Caspian. The prince, however, gave an exasperated sigh and shook Peter the best he could in their position.

"Listen to me!" he ordered, and their eyes met once again. His voice made him sound mysterious, in charge. Peter hated it. "Stop thinking about yourself! Your pride, your title, your _life_ should be equal to _nothing_ right now. A king sacrifices everything for the sake of his people and for his land. Do this for Narnia, and the Narnians. Do it for your sisters and brother. Do not do this for yourself."

Peter couldn't move. He wanted to slug Caspian in his pretty face, but considering his predicament, he gave thinking over his rival's words a try. It made sense, he supposed, and with reluctance, he admitted that he had acted foolish.

He blinked in surprise, letting his body relax beneath Caspian's pressing weight. No, that really hadn't been so hard to say, or think, technically, since he would never let Caspian hear him say _that_. Still, though, it donned on Peter that he _had_ become arrogant. It was his pride, his ego. Back in England, he had taken every opportunity to prove his strength and dominance, even if it wasn't rightfully his. He was used to being High King. Now, even though his time as ruler of Narnia was long over, he was attempting to steal back his throne from Caspian, the one who would succeed him and his siblings.

Oh, what had he been thinking?

"I did want what was best for Narnia," he said softly, almost to himself. He didn't want to talk to _Caspian_ about anything, but he really had no choice. If he just sat there and sulked like a child, he was sure Caspian wouldn't feel obliged to move any time soon. "I did, and I still do. Narnia is my true home, the place I became a man… This is where I feel I belong, and my heart will always belong to the Narnians… I just…I truly wanted to be the one to say he did it. I was too proud. I was used to being the hero. I was the one who saved the day last time. I was their savior. I was the High King, not Susan or Edmund or Lucy, and Aslan let me have his place as King of Narnia without so much as a word of protest. He has always been able to give someone else the honor and title, even if he _did_ save Narnia… And now…" Peter paused and finally brought his gaze up to meet Caspian's. The prince was staring at him in what seemed like shock, but could have been something else Peter was too blind to see. Shaking his head, but refusing to break the eye contact, the sincerity with which he spoke, Peter said, "Now I have to do that for you. You will be the Narnian King. Not Susan or Edmund or Lucy…and it won't be me. The rightful ruler is you. I didn't want to accept that."

"You…" Caspian began, but his words seemed to fall right back down his throat in stunned awe. Peter blinked as Caspian's expression changed, his lips quirked up in a smile of admiration Peter never would've dreamed be directed at _him_. Susan, maybe, but…

"Caspian…?" Peter muttered uneasily, raising an eyebrow warily.

But Caspian was already smiling, his eyes lit up in a joy Peter had not felt the heart to search for since he had left Narnia the first time. And right then, Peter thought he was surprised. He figured he was stunned. Of all things imaginable, and that was a lot considering his past, he never would have thought that anything Caspian could have done would surprise him more than that accepting, content smile.

But then Caspian proved him wrong. _Twice_.

First: "You truly are magnificent."

Second: A kiss.

It was soft and sweet and purely innocent. There was nothing dirty or erotic about the gesture, but it threw Peter into such a chaotic array of unbalanced emotions and sensations, his body went into complete shock. Instead of pushing Caspian away like he would have had he been sane, he simply lied there and let the prince's full, supple lips press down on his. And…it didn't feel quite so bad.

But Caspian was pulling his head away within seconds, long-lashed eyes going so wide, the prince looked like a deer. His eyes were so dark and large and… Peter felt the same way. He swore if his eyes opened any further, they would've jumped out of his skull. Caspian's hand flew to his mouth, touching his lips, every one of his movements showing Caspian was just as startled as Peter.

Then the prince was scrambling to stand, backing away from Peter in such hurried movements, he tripped and nearly fell onto the Stone Table. Instantly, Peter was on his feet and advancing on Caspian, whose eyes tripled in size when he realized that the king wanted an explanation. As soon as he realized this, he tried running again.

"_Caspian_," Peter barked, and grabbed Caspian by the arm. All his defiance and confidence gone, the prince yelped and let his body fall back against the broken tablet, where Peter proceeded to lean over him threateningly. Caspian tried to swallow, but it came out sounding like an embarrassing _gulp_. "How _dare_ you? You had absolutely no right to touch me like that in any way or form whether you are to be my successor or not! You owe me a very good explanation as to the reason behind your irrational actions! I don't bloody care if you were right about me being wrong or whatever the hell we were just talking about, but you can't just _do that_! What in the bloody hell is wrong with you, Caspian?"

"Uh…" Caspian said intelligently, shrinking steadily away from Peter. The king noticed just how much the prince looked young now, not wise or brave at all. He looked…innocent. The grasp on his anger slipped a little and he took a deep breath as he realized just how…_exotic_ Caspian's darker features were. "I…don't…know…?"

"You don't know?" Peter yelled, then snapped his mouth shut and debated on whether or not he should even bother with hitting the boy. It would satisfy him…but his intentions must have been in his eyes, because Caspian…he honestly looked _afraid_. Hissing impatiently, he tried a less violent technique. It was hard. "Well then, why did you do it? Do you know _that_?"

"Well…um, not precisely," Caspian sputtered, smiling sheepishly at Peter's glare. When Peter narrowed his eyes just a fraction more, Caspian quickly frowned and lowered his chin, looking up at Peter through his thick eyelashes. "Er, technically, yes… I do…"

"Well?" Peter hissed, but his persistence only made Caspian bit his lip and look away uneasily, not looking quite so frightened as he did unwilling. Peter exhaled again and then attempted to get an answer once more. With the swiftest movement possible, he lifted his bare hand and swung it across Caspian's face, the loud smack of their skin coming into contact and the pain it brought with it jerked Caspian's gaze back to Peter. He stared at him as if he was really surprised Peter had just slapped him, but Peter honestly didn't care what Caspian believed. He simply asked again, "Why?"

"Because…" Caspian muttered, still leaning precariously against the Stone Table without sitting on it. He rubbed his cheek with a pout-like frown as he mumbled unhappily, "I suppose…I just had the urge to…"

"To what?" Peter asked, and he honestly didn't know. Had Caspian been trying to seduce him or freak him out or was it a suicide attempt? However, Caspian's answer was a little more delicate. It was a simple answer that was much too general for Peter.

"Kiss you," he said, keeping his voice low out of sheer embarrassment. Peter froze, feeling as though bugs made of ice were crawling all over his skin. Then he shuddered and opened his mouth. Caspian, however, beat him to it, glancing at him carefully. "I just felt like it. I do not really know the reason as to _why_ I did it…other than the fact that I have…well…"

He ducked his head and spoke under his breath, saying something Peter rolled his eyes at.

"It would be a little helpful if I could hear you," Peter informed him, receiving a deadly glare that was suddenly enticingly dark and…seductively appealing…

"_Feelings_," Caspian hissed, sounding angrier than he was embarrassed now. Peter felt his face flush warmly at Caspian's confession, and nearly died when the prince continued, "You still infuriate me better than anyone I know, Peter, but lately, things have happened that…I just…I _don't know_. It seemed so natural when I did it. I didn't even mean to. I was not thinking of it. I apologize, I do, truly, but that does not erase the feelings I have…for you…"

"What about Susan?" Peter choked, horrified by Caspian's words…and yet strangely fascinated…and kind of turned on. Just a little bit.

"She's actually quite annoying," Caspian admitted, quirking an eyebrow at no one in particular. Peter couldn't help the snort that erupted from his nose, something that somewhat resembled a laugh. Caspian looked up at him and smirked lightly as he glanced toward the door. "And she's rather angry at me right now… Well, she always finds a reason to be mad at me…"

"She would jump off a cliff for you," Peter said sourly, glaring down at the head of glossy thick locks before him. Caspian turned his head up to stare at him and tilted his head with a smile. Peter let his glower intensify. "What?"

"Would _you_?" he asked, and Peter felt how honest-to-God serious Caspian's question was. Scowling, he smacked the side of his head lightly, ignoring Caspian's laugh.

"No," Peter said firmly, but Caspian's devilish smirk was enough to irk him into saying, "Why would I?"

"Because I think my feelings are mutual," Caspian whispered, and Peter's jaw dropped in astonishment at Caspian's playful boldness. The Telmarine Prince batted his eyelashes once and reached up to grasp Peter's tunic, tugging at it. Peter struggled to find the right words, but failed as Caspian leaned forward, into his body, looking extremely comfortable and content where he was. "Are they, _my king_?"

"Stop it, Caspian," Peter demanded, trying to refrain from hitting the prince a third time. The boy's smile faltered slightly, and, surprisingly, Peter did as well, not sure how to react to Caspian's pleading expression. So, he went for denial, "You're insane."

"No," Caspian said, standing slowly. Peter let him, his brain fumbling for an idea as to what he should do as Caspian leaned closer. "You're just scared to admit it."

"I am not scared or anything," Peter snorted, giving his hair tiny flip. It fell across his eyes, golden threats obscuring his view of Caspian's smirk.

"Then kiss me," Caspian urged, and Peter gaped at the ridiculous command. Shaking his head, he stuttered, fighting for words. Caspian grinned and reached up to brush away the shiny blonde locks away from Peter's face. "I thought you weren't scared."

"I'm not," Peter said, jerking away from Caspian's touch. It burned wherever their skin touched, like frost and flame at the same time, bittersweet in a way. "Kissing you wouldn't be a show of courage. It would be stupid and inappropriate. I'm still a king and you're still a prince. We're both men."

"Why do you speak of such trivial details?" Caspian asked, eyes hardening in determination. "I do not care if we were both born as men."

"It's wrong," Peter bit off, but shuddered under Caspian's vicious glare.

"It's _right_," he argued, and Peter almost believed him for a second.

He sounded so sure, so confident, but Peter reminded himself that Caspian was still just a child. Suddenly, then, Caspian was holding Peter's head in his hands, staring into his deep sapphire eyes with a calm that radiated passionate energy. His voice trembled as he spoke in a softly deep voice.

"I ask nothing more of you than a single kiss," he said. "Just close your eyes, kiss me, and only then shall I give up should you tell me I am wrong."

"Why?" Peter asked, hoping he really didn't sound so helpless to Caspian as he did to himself.

"Because I feel something deeper for you than I have anyone else," Caspian answered, those hypnotically dark eyes locking Peter in place. "When I first saw you, I hated you and adored you at the same time. I detested you for being such an arrogant ruler, and yet I admired you for being persistent and courageous. You were my rival and my superior. Now, you are more to me. You fight with such honor and bravery and dignity, I could not help it when my admiration for you grew…"

Peter returned Caspian's gaze in silence. H really had no words to express how his chest felt as Caspian paused and tilted his head in thought. He hurt, but the pain was one he had not ever known before. Then, with the help of a deep breath, Caspian went on.

"And then I started noticing…things," he said, and Peter could sense how awkward he felt.

"Like what?" he said gently, trying not to push. Why he suddenly wanted to know escaped him, but he did.

"Like your temper," Caspian muttered, embarrassed, Peter could tell from the flush of his tan cheeks. "Well, I already knew you had an anger problem—"

"I do not!"

"—but, for some reason, I started to like it when you yelled at me…when you got mad in general, really. Your cheeks turn pink and your eyes light up as if they have caught fire…" Caspian paused to grin at him. "And yes, you do."

"Well, anyone could notice those things," Peter muttered, flustered. Hearing such things from Caspian made the moment even strange. "That's…"

"Not all," Caspian interrupted, and then raised his hand to run his fingers across Peter's cheek and into his soft locks of hair. "Did you know your hair is the purest shade of gold I have ever seen? Everyone I know has dark hair like mine, brown or black, even your siblings. You, though…a color as radiant as Aslan, yes?"

"My…hair?" Peter said unsurely, reaching up hesitantly to touch his hair, where Caspian's hand was still entwined. He felt himself blush as their proximity decreased even more.

"And your eyes," he whispered, gazing at Peter with something remarkable in his expression. "That deep blue…like the ocean, or the approaching dusk. Your skin…so pale, not like my people. Peter, you shine brightly in such dark times as these. You are more than just a king to me."

"What you speak of is lust, Caspian," Peter said, a confusing mixture of relief and disappointment rushing through his blood. When Caspian gave him a funny look, Peter smiled and explained, "You're just pointing out all my physical traits. Maybe…you might be attracted to my body, but you don't have feelings for _me_."

"Yes, I do," Caspian said slowly, his accent beautiful compared to Peter's plain voice… Realizing this, the king smiled.

"No…" he said, shrugging casually. "Like, I think your voice is attractive because of your accent." Caspian tilted his head with a blink, apparently flattered, but raised an eyebrow when Peter admitted, "Sexy, even."

"Sexy…?" Caspian wondered, and Peter mentally sighed. Right…this wasn't exactly the twenty-first century in Narnia.

"Well, you do know what sex is, don't you?" Peter asked, which made Caspian's brow rise slightly. He nodded, letting Peter go on, "It's a compliment, really. Sort of like a 'turn on.'"

"So…you think my voice is…sexy?" Caspian said, still speaking very slowly, as if thinking it over.

"Yes," Peter exhaled, rolling his eyes. "Now could you stop saying it? It's not something people just say, you know."

"Okay," Caspian said, but then gave him a partially amused look. "Well, if that is what the word refers to, then my voice makes you want to have sex with me?"

Peter blinked once.

Then he panicked.

"No!" he yelled, stammering unsuccessfully to find the right words as he turned a horrible shade of red. Caspian was grinning by the time Peter stuttered, "It's not that literal. It just means…like, you know…a guess, a reminder…?"

"So, my voice reminds you of sex?" Caspian murmured, his voice intentionally playful. Peter glowered, his face burning.

"No, now cut it out!" he scolded, pushing Caspian away. Of course, Caspian's fingers were still threaded in Peter's hair. "Ah!"

They stumbled uncoordinatedly into the Stone Table again, falling over it clumsily, on top of each other. When Peter realized where exactly he was lying, he moved to stand, but Caspian grabbed his neck and waist simultaneously and held him in place.

"Stay…" he asked breathlessly, though it came out more like a desperate command. Peter turned his gaze down to the dark-eyed prince and froze at the intoxicating sight. "Please."

It was a lot to handle, especially with his teenage body producing hormones faster than he could say "no." He tried to remember his pride as his nerves adjusted to the caressing way Caspian touched him. Those eyes were so beautiful, like orbs of lightless perfection, such thick eyelashes and that innocent sheen. He only noticed he was lowering his lips to Caspian's when those eyes closed.

It was nice. Soft, gentle, like before. It was noticeably hesitant, his lips reluctant to touch Caspian's. It was curious and experimental, the lightest kiss he had ever shared with another soul.

Peter liked it…a lot.

Slowly, he let himself shift, still wanting to know more about the strange sensation Caspian was creating within him. He didn't have to do much to urge Caspian's mouth open. All he did was part his lips and move his head forward encouragingly and Caspian was locking the kiss with calm enthusiasm. They were both content with the pace of the kiss, unhurried and sweet.

When he pulled away, however, he was out of breath again. He let himself enjoy the kiss for those last moments, letting his lips linger and rest atop Caspian's. Then they broke apart and he licked his bottom lip instinctively once before opening his eyes. Caspian was watching him with hooded eyes.

"Wrong?" he asked, and Peter sighed, not able to deny the ache in his chest.

"It's lust," he answered, and Caspian frowned, brow knitting together. "Caspian…"

"No, listen," Caspian growled, jerking Peter's head down until their foreheads were touching. He had that hard tone in his voice, the one that Peter had always hated because it matched his own. "I do not lust for your body alone, Peter. I wish for all of you, your acceptance primarily. Stop ignoring what I feel, because it will not go away. When I see you, I do not just look at you and find you attractive. No, I see you and wish with everything that I could give up the world for you. I want so badly to be worthy of Narnia in your eyes. I want _you_. Your stubbornness, your pride, your honor, your bravery, your defiance, your _everything_ is a part of what makes me love you."

Peter blinked again, feeling his entire world being to crumble. It was an unstable feeling, as if the ground was becoming loose and hollow beneath his feet, like he was being swallowed up into the darkness. He wanted to escape it somehow, but he couldn't. It was impossible. Especially since Caspian was speaking again.

"Please try," he whispered, so desperate, so pleading, so wanting… Peter didn't wan to refuse him. Then a dangerous glint sparked in Caspian's eyes, making Peter tense automatically. Caspian ghosted his lips upward and smirked as he said in a lowered voice, "I know you like how my fingers worship your skin, and how it feels when my lips touch yours. Do not deny yourself the pleasure of giving me a chance. It would be a foolish decision, my king, whether you can return my feelings or not."

It made sense. It really did. That's what Peter told himself. If he said yes right now to Caspian, what would be the big deal? There really was nothing wrong with it, despite the fact that he really hadn't been raised to accept such a thing, but still… If Caspian was willing to love him, then why should he deny that? It was a thing to be grateful for, not something to shun. But he couldn't bring the right words to his throat. So, instead, he spoke with a smile, and a light kiss.

"Yes…" he murmured against Caspian's lips. "I will try."

* * *

**A/N: Well...I'm not quite sure if I really like this one or not. To me, it seems awkward, forced, and badly ended... Anyway, tell me what you think of it, 'cause that's what really matters, no? Actually, I wasn't going to make this a romantic fanfiction, but once I got to the perfect part for a kiss, I decided "what the heck?" I mean, both Ben Barnes and William Moseley are perfect for the roles and make both Caspian and Peter undeniably hot, so why not make a pairing of 'em? So, tell me whatcha think.**


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